


You Will Be My Resolution

by muchmorethanaprincess



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, F/M, Future Fic, Smut, canonverse, pregnancy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchmorethanaprincess/pseuds/muchmorethanaprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BFF fill for the prompt "Just fluff Bellarke with babies in the future in canon!" for hoglady</p><p>Clarke and Bellamy have only been sleeping together a couple months when she realizes she's pregnant. But nine months gives them plenty of time to figure things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Will Be My Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "Resolution" by Matt Corby.

The pregnancy is an accident.

They’ve only been sleeping together for a couple months—no talk of feelings, nothing like that yet, because Bellamy’s too worried about scaring her away, and Clarke doesn’t want to admit just how deeply she’s in with him, even to herself. It’s just their bodies colliding, and holding each other afterward, and talking about everything except _them_.

And then Clarke notices that she can’t remember her last period, and she’s been especially tired lately, which is… well it’s actually something to worry about.

Medical resources don’t exactly grow on trees on the ground, and they’ve had to ration everything, including the contraceptive implants that last a few years each. They’re reserved for teenagers and women whose bodies might not be able to handle pregnancy. Clarke knows there’s a little more to it than that—the council wants Arkadia to increase population, so healthy women in their twenties are encouraged to forego the implants so women who need them more can have them, and healthy women are discouraged from aborting, once they are pregnant, although the option is still available if they insist.

Clarke’s mother would have given her an implant, if she had asked, but she didn’t. She figured she’d just abstain or get her fix from girls when she needed to. When she started having sex with Bellamy they talked about it, and decided that he’d pull out, and they haven’t had any slip-ups. But her period is now MIA, and she knows there’s always a chance, with these things. So she goes to medical, runs her own blood test. And sure enough:

Pregnant.

It feels like a punch to the stomach. She was just beginning to let Bellamy in. She wanted to take things slowly, starting with the physical aspect, because that was easy for her. Simple. But she knew they’d get further eventually, on their own time. Once they got past worrying that the other would push them away, everything became natural between them. When they spent the night together, Bellamy would always lean over the bed to kiss her forehead before leaving in the morning. One night when Bellamy was too tired for sex, Clarke stayed in his cabin anyway, waving it off and saying she didn’t want to bother walking back to her own. Really, she just liked being near him.

They didn’t talk about their feelings, but they didn’t have to yet. They’d get there.

But now Clarke’s pregnant, so. Some things need to be talked about.

 

She decides to tell him that night, because she just… doesn’t want to keep this from him. Not even because he deserves to know, but because she can’t imagine not talking to him about this. About anything, really. She walks slowly to his cabin and knocks softly, which. She doesn’t normally knock, but she’s nervous and scared to tell him and beneath that is the little thrum of excitement at seeing him, which she always feels.

He doesn’t seem to notice that it’s unusual for her to knock, just opens the door and pulls her into him with an arm around her waist, leaning down to meet her lips. She pushes into the kiss, stepping inside and kicking the door shut, pressing her body against his. Her body, that’s going to start ballooning in a few months. The thought is enough to make her pull away a little and take a deep breath.

But Bellamy’s in a rare mood tonight, really happy to see her and full of energy. He grins, mutters, “Hey,” right up against her mouth, and then starts kissing her neck.

Clarke didn’t come here for sex, but it has been a few days and this is _really nice_ , and if telling him about the pregnancy fucks everything up between them then they might as well have one last good run, right?

So she wraps her arms around his neck and steers them to his bed, pushing him to sit and immediately straddling him, her hips grinding in search of friction.

But Bellamy is more perceptive than she anticipated, and after a few minutes of bruising kisses from her he backs away enough to look at her face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the skin of her hips, where his hands have snuck under her shirt.

Right. Clarke can’t suddenly be gunning for dramatic sex without Bellamy realizing that something’s up. And it’s not what she’d want anyway, if this is their last time. So she takes a breath, runs her fingers through his hair to soothe herself, making him sigh when she scrapes her nails lightly over his scalp.

“I’m fine,” she says, “Just a little overeager, I guess.”

She does everything she can to slow it down. She runs her hands over his chest and back as she pulls his shirt up, torturously slow, finally letting him throw it across the room. She kisses his neck, bites and sucks a bruise into it as he grips the flesh of her ass, moaning deeply. She’s sure he can feel the flash of her smile against his skin.

She strokes his arms, his ribs, his muscled stomach as they kiss, her hands always ending up back in his hair, which she loves.

She pushes him to lie down when the throbbing between her legs is too much, and strips him of the rest of his clothing, kissing the skin she uncovers. When she’s done she drops down next to him, and he drags her clothes off, hovering over her, his large hands stroking her into a frenzy with hardly any effort. With her pants off, he kisses from her ankle up to the inside of her thighs, biting lightly at the soft flesh, sucking until she groans.

He makes her come with his mouth on her clit, her hands gripping his hair, then slides up her body so their hips are aligned. He leans on his forearms, bracketing her between them and holding his body just close enough to graze against her. She tips up to meet his mouth, and wraps her legs around him to pull him into her.

They both groan. No matter how many times they’ve done this, and how many ways, that feeling isn’t getting old.

Bellamy’s strokes are firm and satisfying, but Clarke doesn’t want this to be over any sooner than it has to be.

“Slow,” she says, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone. “Slow.”

He nods, says okay, and his thrusts become agonizing, his hips rolling against hers so slowly she can note every sensation running through her.

He groans, obviously holding himself back. The sound makes Clarke whimper, and bite down on her lip. Bellamy sees and decides to take over for her, dragging it through his teeth. They kiss, tongues and breathy moans mingling as their hips keep working slowly, until Clarke’s breath quickens and she comes with shaky cries while Bellamy continues thrusting, painstakingly slow, keeping her hands digging into his biceps for several gorgeous moments as she rides it out.

“Don’t pull out,” she murmurs, when she’s able to get her thoughts back together.

Bellamy falters inside her for a second. “What?”

“You don’t have to. Just trust me. Finish inside me this time.”

He nods, and Clarke says, “You can let go now,” because she’s savored enough and now just feels like she’s torturing him, and she wants to watch him come unraveled above her without any restraints.

He sighs in relief, buries his face against her neck, and picks up the pace. Clarke touches him everywhere she can reach and still wants more. She slips a hand between them to rub at her clit, but when Bellamy notices he grabs her wrist and pushes it away, taking over himself.

Bellamy moans just before he comes, spilling inside her, and Clarke tumbles over with him.

He collapses on her for a second, then makes to roll over, but Clarke holds him so tightly that she ends up splayed on top of him.

She grins up at him from where she’s propped against his chest, but it falls when she remembers what she has to tell him.

He hasn’t missed a beat though.

“You going to tell me what’s going on?” he asks gently.

She drops her face to his chest, sighing.

“Come on.” His hand traces up her back. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m—” she’s interrupted by the lump in her throat. “I’m pregnant.”

She feels his body freeze beneath her.

“Oh.”

She looks up at him, a worried frown on her face. “Oh?”

“I mean, yeah, I—shit I don’t know?” he stutters. “How? I’ve pulled out every time, I never missed.”

“I don’t know. Super sperm?”

He grimaces. “Sorry.”

She shakes her head, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “It’s not like you did it alone.”

“How do you feel?”

She shrugs. “I feel fine. I’ve been a little nauseous, but not that bad. Mostly I’m just more tired than usual.”

“Okay. How do you feel… emotionally?”

“Oh. I don’t know. I found out today, and I was busy. I was kind of avoiding thinking about it until I told you.”

“Who else knows?” Bellamy asks quietly.

Clarke shakes her head. “Just you. I did the blood work myself.”

Bellamy’s hand moves of its own volition to rest on her lower back, over where something that _they created_ is growing inside her.

“So, what are you gonna do?” he asks.

She rolls off of him and thinks about it for the first time. Her mom wouldn’t fight her on terminating, if she asked, and she’d probably keep quiet about it too, to prevent from “setting a bad example” for the rest of Arkadia. Or she could spend nine months incubating a little human that would belong to her and Bellamy.

It’s too soon for that, she tells herself, but her heart flips at the thought nonetheless. She knows that pregnancy sucks, she has no illusions about that, and that babies are difficult and demanding and take up all their parents’ time. But if she _is_ ever going to have a family with Bellamy, why not now?

“What do you think I should do?” she asks Bellamy.

“That’s not my decision to make,” he says, grave.

“I want your opinion,” Clarke says firmly.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ll be here either way. But I think you should get rid of it.”

Clarke nearly chokes. It’s just—it’s not the answer she would ever expect from Bellamy, and she can’t quite work out _why_ that’s his answer. Bellamy loves kids, he’s great with them. People don’t even hesitate to hand their babies over because they know he’s so good with them.

But maybe it’s not the thought of a baby. Maybe it’s the thought of a baby _with her_.

“Oh. Okay then. I guess that’s—that’s probably what I’ll do.”

She turns over, facing the wall. She’d really like to get out of the bed and leave, but that would require climbing over Bellamy, which would probably be tense and embarrassing, given the tears welling in her eyes.

She hears him sigh. “No, it’s not ‘okay then,’ Clarke. What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine!” she insists, inhaling quickly through her nose in an attempt to stop the sniffling before it starts. “You obviously don’t see this being long-term, that’s fine, it’s not like we’ve talked about it. I don’t want a baby with someone who doesn’t want one.”

He laughs. It makes Clarke’s eyes prickle. These _stupid_ pregnancy hormones, she thinks.

Apparently he sees how stiff she is, because he presses his forehead against her shoulder, nudging it, which he knows she finds endearing.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” He kisses her shoulder, then tugs on her arm until she turns over, staring up at him through guarded eyes.

“I’m not really this emotional over this, it’s the hormones, okay?” she says defensively.

“Okay.” He smiles. “This _is_ long-term for me, Clarke. In my mind, this is more long-term than anything or anyone else, okay?”

He waits until she nods. “But I don’t want to just assume that this is long-term for you too, if it isn’t. I certainly don’t want you to tie your life to mine just because of a child. I don’t want to make you feel like you need to have a baby with me, if that’s not what you want.”

“What if it is?” she counters.

He sighs. “In truth, I think you should abort because—” he can’t speak for a moment. “What if something happens to you, because of the pregnancy? What if something goes wrong? What if I—what if I lose you?”

Her eyes soften. “ _Bellamy_. That’s not going to happen.”

He shakes his head. “It could. You don’t know.” He places his hand over her lower abdomen. “I want to be a father Clarke. But I don’t want to lose you to get that.”

“You _won’t_ lose me. We have made it through Mount Weather and Alie, and a hundred other daily life-threatening dramas on the ground. Pregnancy is going to be the least of our worries.”

“So you want to have a baby?” he asks. “With me? You actually _want_ that, you’re not just doing it because you… I don’t know, because you feel obligated, or something?”

“Well, population increase is very important at this stage, Bellamy,” she says, in a voice sickenly similar to her mother’s.

He buries his face in her neck, laughing weakly. “You’re the _worst_.”

She runs her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. “I know.” She tugs his head up. “If you’re really in this with me, if you actually want it too, then yes, I want this.”

“Okay. Let’s do this. But Clarke? If you’re not fine at the end of this, I’m going to be angry at you for the rest of my life.”

“Deal.”

 

They only have one scare, a few months in, when Clarke has some unexpected spotting. She’s pretty much living in Bellamy’s cabin by then, and he lets her sleep in while he leaves for guard duty because the exhaustion has been getting to her more recently.

When she gets up a couple hours later and goes to the bathroom, she finds blood in her underwear. It’s not fresh, which she knows is a good sign, but she wishes she had Bellamy there to hold onto as she walks slowly to medical, still in her pajamas and shaking slightly.

Raven spots her on the way, can see that something’s up and comes running instantly, wraps an arm around her waist and reassures her that everything will be fine. Once Raven hands her off to her mother Clarke asks her to go find Bellamy, and she does, her brace squeaking as she hurries off as quickly as she can.

Abby’s in the middle of an ultrasound, telling Clarke that everything’s fine, when Bellamy bursts in.

He stops in the doorway, like he’s actually been hit in the chest and can’t move farther.

She sees his shoulders drop with his sigh of relief, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as a halfway hysterical sound erupts out of it.

They hold eye contact for several long, heavy moments, and then Clarke says, “Come here, I’m okay,” holding out a hand to him.

Bellamy rushes to her side, taking her face between his hands and planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips, right there in front of her mother, then several more kisses on her cheek, her temple, and her forehead, pressing his face against hers when he stops.

“Everything’s fine,” she whispers, pushing her fingers through his hair softly. “We’re both okay.”

Abby’s got the baby on the monitor, its heartbeat sounding through a little set of speakers. Bellamy registers it once he pulls away from Clarke, slightly embarrassed, but she grabs his hand tightly in hers and doesn’t let him move away. It’s not the first time they’ve heard the heartbeat, but it almost feels like it.

“You’re both okay,” he murmurs, tear tracks shining on his face and his nose scrunching up as he breathes back a sniffle.

“Yeah.” She lifts his hand to her lips, kissing the back of it gently, as Abby points to things on the monitor and explains a few of the potential causes for Clarke’s spotting, all of which are normal for one in five women and nothing to worry about.

Bellamy’s hardly paying attention. He can’t stop staring at Clarke. Not even after he’s taken her back to his cabin and propped her up in bed with extra pillows, made her a cup of herbal tea and found her favorite book for her to read.

She tells him to go back to work, but he waves her off, and can’t seem to leave to do anything else.

“Bellamy?” she says, when it’s beginning to seem a little ridiculous.

“Yeah, do you need something?” He shoots up from his seat at his little kitchen table instantly.

She tilts her head, gazing at him. “I was really scared too.”

He sighs, and she knows it was the right thing to say.

“Do you want to just, come hold me?” she offers, because that’s what she really wants right now.

He’s there in a second, curling in next to her and wrapping his arms around her body, tucking his face into her neck and breathing her in. She feels the tension ease out of his body as she settles in against him, and they spend the afternoon reading and taking comfort from each other.

 

There are more milestones—the baby kicking for the first time, which becomes Bellamy’s favorite thing in the world, though Clarke starts to get annoyed by the constant gymnastics when she’s trying to sleep, and finding out that it’s a boy, which sort of scares them both, but the rest of the pregnancy goes as smoothly as they could hope for.

Clarke is completely moved in with Bellamy by six months, and he builds a cradle for the baby, which makes her cry, though she blames the hormones.

Neither of them is sure that they’re completely ready, but there’s no question that they both want the tiny human growing inside Clarke, that they both adore him unconditionally already.

That’s actually what scares Clarke the most. She whispers it to Bellamy one night, in the dark, because that’s the only way she can get it out.

“I love him so much already. I’d do anything for him, and I haven’t even met him yet. If something were to happen to him… I can’t even fathom the pain. If someone, or something, were to threaten him… it scares me what I would be willing to do.”

He strokes her back softly, trying to comfort her.

“That’s just what being a parent is, Clarke. That means you’re doing it _right_. But I get it, I feel the same way.” He traces his hand to her stomach, rubbing over her bump with light fingers. “That amount of love… it’s overwhelming.”

He raises his eyes to meet hers, and they both know. They don’t have to say anything. He does anyway, though.

“Then again, I’ve been feeling like that since way before the baby,” he whispers.

Clarke frowns, lets his words settle for a moment. “You’re right. I guess I’ve just never thought of it that way. It’s a little different when I know _you_ can at least hold your own. You’re not a tiny helpless human that will depend on me as a _literal food source_.”

Bellamy laughs quietly. “He’s going to love you so much, you know that, right?”

Clarke pushes her face against his shoulder to hide her tears. “How do you always know the right thing to say? How do you always manage to get to the root of my worries even when I can’t?”

He runs his fingers through her hair, which is wavy and soft and just reaches the tops of her shoulders.

“I know you, Clarke Griffin.”

She pulls back enough to look at him.

“You’re going to be a good mother. A great one. And our son is going to love you.”

“You know you’re going to be a good father?” she asks.

He looks away. “I hope so.”

“You _will_ ,” she presses. “And he’s going to love you too. You’ll see.”

Bellamy kisses her instead of answering. It’s easier, and she understands.

 

Bellamy’s there for the birth—all twenty-eight hours of it. Abby wheels a cart of medical supplies to their cabin, Raven stops by every few hours with food or blankets or whatever she comes up with to make herself feel better, and Harper, who’s trained as a midwife and has delivered hundreds of babies in Arkadia, helps bring their baby boy into the world.

Clarke screams and yells through the pain, and Bellamy cries and lets her squeeze his hand until it turns purple, and when the baby is out he kisses Clarke’s face, almost uncontrollably, murmuring, “I love you, you’re the most incredible woman in the world, I love you, you’re amazing, I love you.”

Clarke laughs and drops her head to his shoulder. “I love you too.”

And then Harper hands her their son, and neither of them can speak anymore. They’re both crying, and Clarke thinks about how she always thought the special part of having a baby was supposed to be that it was a piece of _you_. But looking at the tiny boy in her arms all she can think is that this baby, with his little tuft of dark hair and already tan skin, is a piece of _Bellamy_ , and she can’t imagine loving anything more than she loves this tiny piece of him.

“He’s perfect,” Bellamy whispers, when he finds his voice.

“Yeah,” Clarke says, her voice thick. “We did a good job on this one.”

 


End file.
